


Two of a Kind

by HomemadeLemonade



Category: Homeland
Genre: Adolescence, Childhood, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, First Kiss, First Love, First Time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6131266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomemadeLemonade/pseuds/HomemadeLemonade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if our fave couple had met loooong before New Car Smell? In this universe, timings of key events in their lives vary from canon, other scenes from canon are reimagined or re-examined in light of their different backstory.</p><p>And, there is no CF S5! Let’s forget it ever happened!</p><p> </p><p>  <strong> Please note this work is incomplete and I currently have no intention to conclude it.</strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Genesis

He was her first. Her first love. Her first heartbreak.

Carrie remembered noticing him one rainy Monday morning, silent and still at the back of the classroom. “New kid”, the others whispered, nudging and elbowing each other as they settled into their desks, bell ringing in the start of another week. “Boys and girls, we have a new student with us today. Please make John Quincannon feel welcome.” She saw him give Mrs Farmer a wary smile. At recess, a few boys approached him as he sat alone on a bench overlooking the puddles on the basketball court. He turned down their invitation to shoot hoops, even though the rain had stopped. Like her, he was a loner, even then. 

They were at an age where girls played and gossiped in small groups and boys ran amok together. Those who had friends, that is. She spent a lot of time reading in the treehouse her father had built for her and her sister. He kept busy exploring his new town on his bike, before taking up a paper route. 

One day she noticed him walking home a few blocks behind her, his dark hair tousled and his long, lean legs closing the distance between them. She dawdled in the front yard, collecting the mail and watching to see where he was headed. Maybe he and his family had moved into one of the vacant houses nearby. He caught her eye as he drew level with her front fence. “Hey,” she said, smiling shyly. “Hey yourself,” he responded with a small smile, not breaking stride, continuing up the street and rounding the corner. 

She turned and trudged slowly up the stairs to the house, letting herself in with the key her father kept hidden on the porch. She dropped her school bag, kicked off her shoes and headed into the kitchen. She opened the cookie jar, inhaling the delicious smell inside before replacing the lid. It was empty. It had been since her Mom had left a couple of weeks before. She wondered, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, why her mother had left them. There had been no note. She and her sister had arrived home from school to find the house empty and her car gone. Her father had come home from work a few hours later and discovered all her clothes and toiletries were gone too. Her parents had had their share of fights, she knew all too well, but they hadn’t been fighting lately. It was all so unexpected and upsetting.

Heaving a sigh, she slipped out the kitchen door into the yard and sought refuge in her treehouse. She’d taken it over as her sister never spent any time there now. Too busy with high school and the new friends she’d made. She flopped down on the floor, her blonde hair fanning out over the cushions scattered there, and picked up a photo album. She slowly paged through it, staring at the happy family smiling in the pictures, her blue eyes welling with tears. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she tossed it to the floor and began sobbing uncontrollably. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been crying, but at some point she heard the kitchen door banging and her sister calling her name. Maggie had enough stress at the moment with exams looming in addition to their mother’s disappearance. Carrie wasn’t about to add to her worries by letting her catch her crying. She wiped her tears on the backs of her hands and shouted that she’d be down in a few minutes, right after she finished the chapter she was reading. 

The next day at recess as she was sitting head down, eating a sandwich Maggie had hastily made her before having to run for her school bus, she noticed a shadow falling over her. She glanced up and saw Billy Baxter, the horrible boy from next door, standing in front of her with a couple of his friends. “Well if it isn’t Baby Mathison,” he taunted. “What?” she asked, feeling uneasy. “I heard you, you know, out there in your treehouse, crying like a baby. Yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that.” She rose quickly and tried to walk around him, but he stepped forward, trapping her against the bench she’d been sitting on. “No wonder your Mom left, what with your crazy father and you being such a big baby!” he laughed. She gave him a shove to the shoulder, catching him by surprise and causing him to briefly lose his footing. She seized the opportunity to push past him but he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her back. 

Before she could react, Billy was suddenly pulled away from her. She assumed a teacher had spied what was happening and stepped in to break it up. She was amazed when she turned and saw John release his hold on Billy’s shoulder and punch him in the nose. The blow knocked Billy on his butt. His friends took one look at John and decided to make themselves scarce. John bent down and told Billy through clenched teeth there’d be more where that came from if he tried any of that crap again. He then stood up, glancing at her briefly, before strolling off as the bell rang signalling that play time was over. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was from the altercation with Billy, or the fact that John had come to her aid. 

After school, she stopped by the library to borrow some new books, in no hurry to head home to her empty house. When she eventually arrived there, she decided to remove the photo album from the treehouse and return it to the cupboard in the family room. She was embarrassed that Billy had heard her crying, mortified that he had confronted her at school, and stunned that John, who barely knew her, had intervened.

Clambering up the makeshift ladder into the treehouse, Carrie stifled a scream as she discovered someone sitting on the cushions there.

It was John.


	2. From Little Things

“Hey,” he said softly, tentatively, echoing her greeting of the afternoon before.

“Hey yourself,” she responded gamely, hesitating for a moment, before taking up a spot on one of the floor cushions. She eyed him warily. Could this afternoon hold any more surprises?

_A good start,_ he thought, _at least she isn’t screaming, not that there’s anyone home to hear her._

_What is he doing here,_ she wondered, determined not to appear anxious. After all, it wasn’t like she had friends around to her treehouse very often. And certainly never boys. _Geez, he’s the best looking boy in school,_ she thought nervously. She sensed she didn’t need to feel awkward in his presence though. He’d helped her today when she’d needed it and she was grateful _._

“Um, thanks for today,” she began, to fill the silence. “With Billy, I mean,” she continued, gaining confidence.

“Billy’s a turd,” he shrugged, making her giggle.

“Yeah, well, he likes to bully people. Today was my turn, I guess,” she sighed.

“You know the best thing to do with a bully?” he asked, looking at her intently. “Turn the tables.”

“What do you mean?” she quizzed, frowning.

“Stand up to him and bully him right back,” he said in a calm, determined voice.

“I don’t think I could punch him like that,” she said hesitantly.

He shook his head. “You don’t have to. You could tease him back about something. In front of his friends. In front of everyone. You know, embarrass _him_ for once.”

“What would I tease him about though? He’s bigger and stronger than me, has heaps of friends…” she trailed off.

“Well,” John said slowly, a wicked gleam in his eye, “He wets the bed sometimes!”

“What?!” she gasped, “How would you know _that_?”

“My paper route,” he smiled, conspiratorially, leaning towards her. “While everyone else is tucked up asleep, I’m out and about delivering newspapers. Twice in the last week, I’ve seen Billy hanging sheets on the washing line before anyone else in the house is even up!”

“Jeepers!” She let out a low whistle, considering this handy piece of information.

He watched the wheels in her head turning and noticed the small smile that caused her face to light up, just like it did when she was cocooned in one of her books in the school library. She’d never noticed him there, she never noticed anything when she was lost in a book, but he’d noticed her when he’d been there catching up on homework. He was confident that Billy would no longer be a problem to her.

She regarded him for a moment, and he noticed that her smile had vanished. “So,” she began thoughtfully, “What do you know about me then?”

The question took him by surprise. “What do you mean?” he asked, suddenly cautious. He hadn’t expected this.

“Well, you figured out that Billy wets his bed. What have you noticed about me?”

John swallowed and tried to maintain his composure. He wanted to give her a truthful answer without causing her any more upset.

“Not much. You like books,” he gestured at the piles of books all around them. He knew that wasn’t what she meant though, so he continued, treading carefully, “And that your Mom left, of course.”

“And is that something you knew before Billy opened his trap today?”

“No.”

“You were onto him pretty quickly,” she prompted, “Why did you step in like that?”

He sighed. “I’ve seen him bullying other kids since I moved here. My family has moved around a bit so I’ve been to a few different schools and there’s been a Billy Baxter in every single one. The only way to stop them is to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

“And who taught you how to deal with bullies?”

He was lost in thought for a moment, thinking of the times he’d been bullied himself, and the way his father had sat him down one day to talk about bullies and the ways to handle them. “My Dad,” he answered eventually.

“Well, he’ll be pretty impressed when you tell him how you fought off Billy today!” she smiled.

She noticed a sad look dart across his face and then he was back to neutral. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing” he shrugged.

“What was that look?” she persisted.

He could already tell she wouldn’t give up and he didn’t feel like lying to her. “My Dad’s dead. He died a couple of years ago. It’s just me and Mom these days,” he said simply, looking down at the floor.

“Oh, geez! I’m sorry.” She wondered what else to say. She was still so upset that her Mom had left – she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have lost a parent like he had.

“Look, I know how bad I felt when I lost my Dad, and when Billy started teasing you like that, I knew I had to do something to stop him,” he said.

What he didn’t admit was that he’d heard her crying himself, the previous afternoon. After passing her on his way home, he’d made a snack, collected his bike and gone out for a ride. He’d slowed outside her house to see if she was still in the yard and that was when he’d heard the crying. He was shocked, wondering if it was her and what could have made her so upset. Then he’d noticed Billy standing at the side fence, smiling up at the treehouse.

He’d continued cycling past her house, realising where things were probably heading with Billy and decided to keep his eye on him at school. He heard a gate open and close behind him and turned, seeing a girl a few years older than them stride up the stairs to the front door, let herself in, and start calling to Carrie. _Must be her sister,_ he’d thought, _hopefully she’ll sort out whatever’s wrong._ Today though, after learning from Billy that she’d been crying for days, he realised that she was keeping her misery from her sister, shouldering her burden alone. She was obviously stronger than he’d realised.

“Well, like I said, I appreciate it.” She was smiling her small smile again.

_I like it when she smiles like that,_ he thought.

“That’s ok,” he said, smiling back. Realising her sister would probably be home soon, he stood and picked up his school bag. “I should head home, I guess. Homework, chores, you know.”

She nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that he was leaving.

“I just wanted to check that you were ok,” he said, glancing at her one last time before starting down the ladder.

For the first time in weeks, she realised she was.


	3. Solid Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to SourCherryBlossom who wanted to know a little more about their home lives, and who has offered me so much friendly encouragement.

Later that evening, after finishing her homework, she set the table for dinner. Her father wasn’t the cook her mother was, but he was doing his best to prepare simple meals after work each night and catch up on laundry on weekends. She and her sister were both terrified of what he might do to their clothes with the iron, so Maggie had offered to take over the ironing. Carrie was supposed to sweep the kitchen and porch and vacuum the other rooms in the house. Just as she’d finished laying out the plates, her father let himself in the front door. She ran over to greet him and he grabbed her tightly for a hug, kissing the top of her head. Maggie hurried down the stairs, having left her homework to join them and help with dinner.

Frank had no idea where his wife could have gone or why she had left without some sort of discussion, or at least a note. They’d had their ups and downs of course, partly due to his condition, but somehow they’d always made it through the bad times and tried to shield their daughters from the worst. The idea of raising the girls on his own was daunting, but he was relieved Ellen hadn’t taken them with her. He figured the three of them could probably muddle through the practical stuff together most of the time, like cooking and keeping on top of the housework, but he was worried about the emotional impact of the abandonment on both him and the girls. He didn’t know if Ellen would ever return, and he knew he could never replace the hole she’d left in their lives, but he resolved to show the girls as much love he could.

Maggie knew that her parents had had their problems, but she couldn’t figure out why her Mom would have left like that. A few of her friends’ parents had divorced. They lived with their mothers but their fathers had remained in contact and saw them on weekends and holidays. Her Dad was putting on a brave face, but she was worried he might sink into another depression. And then there was Carrie. She knew Carrie missed their Mom but other than the tears Carrie had shed the night they realised she was gone, she hadn’t mentioned her since. She’d been hiding out in the treehouse and when she came in for dinner, she barely ate, fiddling instead with her cutlery and pushing her food around the plate.

That night, however, Maggie noticed a change in Carrie. She ate most of the meal and seemed less pale than she had the past few days. She caught her father’s eye and glanced at Carrie, raising her eyebrow and smiling. Frank, too, had noticed the difference. Having been almost barrelled over by Carrie’s enthusiastic welcome home, he’d been keeping his eye on her since and was relieved that she seemed less withdrawn. He decided to build on the lighter mood at the table that night. “Say,” he began, “why don’t we give the kitchen the night off tomorrow and have a pizza in front of the Orioles game?” Maggie and Carrie looked excitedly at each other before shouting, “Yeah!”

After dinner, the girls offered to clean up the kitchen. Maggie washed the dishes and wiped the counter. As Carrie reached for a towel to dry the dishes, she noticed Maggie lifting the empty cookie jar off the counter to clean under it. “Maggie,” she said suddenly, “do you think we could bake some cookies this weekend?” Maggie turned to her, smiling. “Chocolate chip, I suppose?” Carrie grinned and nodded. _If that’s all it takes to make her smile again, I’ll bake every weekend,_ thought Maggie.

That night as she lay in bed, Carrie thought about her day. Being teased by Billy had been awful. She wondered if he was right about her Mom though, maybe she really had left because of her Dad’s mood swings and sometimes erratic behaviour. There was no way of knowing. She knew her Dad loved her Mom, he loved them all with such passion. But maybe that wasn’t enough for her Mom. Then she thought of John, who’d looked out for her today. She smiled at the memory of him sharing Billy’s secret with her. Perhaps she’d found a friend in him. She snuggled down under the covers, sneaking a last look at the stars shining through the window before closing her eyes and drifting off. 

***

After arriving home that afternoon, John had grabbed a broom and swept the front walk, driveway and garage. He wanted them to look nice when his Mom drove up. He tried to help out as much as he could, especially with the yard, and his Mom made sure he knew she appreciated it. He’d moved on to his homework when he heard her car pulling into the garage. He met her there and she stepped out of the car, smiling, and ruffled his hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. She’d stopped off for groceries on the way home from work, so he helped carry everything into the kitchen.

John’s mother watched as he set down the bag he was carrying and returned to the car for the last of them. He was so much like his father. Not just in looks, he was quiet and reliable like him too. She sighed. She missed her husband so much, and worried about John growing up without his father. It had been a risk in his line of work. The family business, as he’d laughingly called it. He was a soldier and had served his country just like his father, and his father before him. His brothers were soldiers and she knew they expected their sons to carry on the tradition. Some of John’s older cousins had already enlisted.

She snapped out of her reverie when he appeared beside her with the last of the groceries, thanked him, and told him she’d call him when dinner was ready.

As she began putting away the shopping, her mind drifted back to family tradition and expectations. She thought about the good-natured teasing and bragging that went on whenever her husband’s family got together. Once, when John was a few years younger, one of his uncles had proudly announced that his eldest son had enlisted. There were cheers all round, lots of back slapping and jokes about how he might one day make Special Forces. It made her shudder to think of it. Now that she’d lost her husband, the thought of possibly losing John too because of a stupid family tradition was too much. She resolved to make sure he had a good education that would offer him other career options, and would give him her blessing to pursue any of them.

That night as they sat down to dinner, she asked John how he was settling in at school. For years, he’d had to start afresh at new schools whenever his father received another posting. John hadn’t complained much, but she knew kids could be cruel, especially to newcomers. His father had handled these conversations much better than she did, taking the man-to-man approach to draw John out and build his confidence.

She was delighted when John looked up from his plate, smiled almost shyly, and answered that he’d already made a friend.


	4. One Perfect Day

Sunday afternoon found Carrie at a loose end. That morning, Maggie had kept her word and helped her bake a huge batch of cookies. It was the most fun either of them had enjoyed in weeks. After lunch, Maggie had gone out to meet some friends at the mall and see a movie. Their father had settled down in the living room to while away a couple of hours with the newspaper and a few of his favourite jazz records. Carrie grabbed a book and headed out to the porch, where she plopped down into the swing seat. She’d was just finishing her second chapter when she sensed movement in the street. Glancing up, she saw John sitting astride his bike just outside the gate. Carrie stood, dropping her book into the swing, and ambled down the stairs. “Hey,” she said, smiling shyly, as she reached the gate and leaned over it.

“Hey yourself,” he answered, smiling back. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing much,” she shrugged.

“Want to come for a ride?” he offered.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll just let my Dad know.” She climbed the stairs, opened the front door and called to her father that she was going for a ride. She collected her bike from the side of the porch and met John in the street. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“The park?” he suggested, pushing off. 

“OK,” she nodded, following his lead.

The park was only ten minutes away and it was a warm, sunny day. When they arrived, they left their bikes under a tree and flopped down on their backs in the grass, enjoying the sunshine. The park was busy, with parents taking well-earned breaks on picnic blankets, kids playing on the swings and slides, and teenagers playing basketball on the asphalt.

“How’s your weekend been?” she asked.

“Not bad,” he responded. “Watched the game on Friday night. Went out for icecream with Mom yesterday.” He sat up and looked her over for a moment before asking, “How about you? What have you been doing, apart from baking?”

She sat up immediately and stared at him, eyes and mouth wide open. “Baking?! How do you know that?!” she demanded.

“Well, it looks like you didn’t wear an apron,” he gestured.

She looked down at herself. Drifts of white dust on her T shirt from when Maggie had asked her to sift the flour and oily stains on her jeans where she’d wiped her hands after helping to roll the balls of dough for the trays. She caught his eye and he grinned, pleased with his little stunt.

“OK, smart guy,” she challenged, grinning back, “I made cookies with my sister this morning. I’ll bring extra for you at recess tomorrow if you can tell me what flavor they are.” 

“Hmmm,” he began theatrically, pretending to consider the evidence. “Well, the dust on your shirt is white, not brown, so they’re not chocolate.” Although she was trying to keep a poker face so as not to give him any help, he noticed her mouth twitch at the mention of chocolate. He decided to string her along for a little while before going in for the kill.

“Lemon drops?” he asked.

“Nope,” she said, relieved that he’d moved away from chocolate. 

“Peanut butter?” 

“Wrong again!” 

“Ginger kisses?”

“No way!” she laughed, enjoying the game.

“Oatmeal and raisin?” he said, enjoying her laughter.

“Still no!”

“Well, they must be chocolate chip then!” he guessed, quietly confident. 

“Awww!” she exclaimed.

“Ha! I’m right, aren’t I?!” he smiled.

“Yeah,” she nodded, smiling back.

“They’re my favorite,” they both said at the same time. Each looked away from the other, suddenly shy. 

Noticing a couple of the swings were now available, he stood and asked, “How about a swing?”

She scrambled to her feet, and they wandered over to the equipment.

They stayed a little while before she announced that she should probably head home. He nodded and they collected their bikes and started back. He waited as she opened her front gate and wheeled her bike through it. “So I guess I’ll see you in school tomorrow,” she said, hopefully.

“Yeah, and don’t forget my cookies,” he teased, before pedalling off up the street, a broad smile on his face. 

For the first time either of them could remember, they were looking forward to Monday.


	5. Tiny Daggers

She brought the extra cookies to school and noticed a flutter of excitement in her belly all morning. When recess finally came, she wandered over to the bench where he was eating his lunch, sat down and placed her lunchbox near his. She opened the lid and smiled at him shyly. He immediately dived in, taking two cookies and giving her a cheeky grin. “Wow, they’re good!” he enthused, between bites. “Yeah,” she nodded, “We added extra chocolate chips.” She grabbed one for herself and watched him demolish the last few bites of his. She was pleased he liked them so much.

On Wednesday afternoon, she headed to the library to work on a project that was due the following week. She selected a few books from the shelves and sat down at one of the tables in the quiet area. Fifteen minutes later, she glanced up as someone took a seat at the other end of the table. He’d decided it was a good place to catch up on homework and started to join her there sometimes.

And like that, friendship blossomed slowly between them. Neither had much experience of what it was like to have a close friend, let alone a friend of the opposite gender. They were so used to being loners and trying not to attract unwanted attention, that their friendship developed in a low key manner and went unnoticed by many around them. Each had little in the way of expectations and they made it up as they went along.

Sometimes when she walked through the school gate on her way home, she’d find him playing handball against the nearby buildings. He’d catch the ball, pocket it and wordlessly fall into step beside her. Usually they’d part at her house, occasionally he might stick around for a snack if she and Maggie had baked recently.

On weekends, if neither had plans with their family, she’d hang out on the porch with a book, casually surveilling the street, and if he appeared on his bike, she’d be on her feet, calling to Maggie or her Dad that she was going out for a ride. Once in a while they met at the park and hung out there, playing on the swings and slides and sometimes stopping for a soda on their way home.

One Friday afternoon, they’d walked home from school together and he slowed at her front gate. “Hey, would you like some cheese and crackers?” she asked, feeling hungry herself and knowing it would be a couple of hours until Frank arrived home and started dinner. “Sure,” he shrugged, knowing his Mom would be a while yet. “In the treehouse?” she suggested. They usually took their snacks there when he stayed for afternoon tea. She went into the house and he removed a ball from his school bag and started playing against the side fence. She returned soon enough and he climbed a couple of steps up the ladder, just far enough to be able to take the plates from her and place them on the floor of the treehouse. They climbed up and sat on the floor cushions, chatting while they snacked.

When their plates were empty, he put one on top of the other and got to his feet. “I’d better get home,” he said, wondering if she might say whether she’d be free to head to the park on Sunday. “Sure,” she said, as he started down the ladder, preparing to pass him the plates. She hoped he might ask if she’d like to go for a ride on the weekend. As she stepped from the ladder onto the grass, she turned to take the plates from him and saw Billy leaning over the side fence, leering at the two of them, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Carrie and Johnny, sitting in a tree,” Billy sang loudly, “K-i-s-s-i-n-g! First comes love..”

“Shut up, you stupid _bedwetter!_ ” Carrie shouted over his singing. Billy did indeed shut up, a look of horror on his face.

She glanced at John and saw that both his hands had automatically clenched into fists. He caught her eye and his hands slowly unclenched, coming to rest at his sides.

Billy had used the moment to recover a little. “Bedwetter?!” he challenged, “What makes you think I wet the bed?” 

“Only the fact that I’ve seen you sneaking outside at the crack of dawn to hang sheets on the washing line at least four times in the last few weeks!” taunted Carrie.

Billy’s shoulders slumped a little but the challenging look hadn’t left his face. “No one would believe you if you tried to tell them that,” he countered.

“Let’s see then,” she continued, noticing that he was becoming a little rattled. “At recess on Monday, I’ll go around and tell everyone in our class that you wet your bed and we’ll see how many believe me”.

“No! No! Don’t do that!” Billy pleaded, almost in tears now.

“Well then, I don’t want to hear any more from you about trees or kissing, and I better not see or hear about you bullying anyone else again!” she demanded.

Billy nodded his agreement, turned his back on them and trudged off to seek refuge inside his house.

“Impressive!” grinned John, admiration shining in his eyes.

“Thanks,” she smiled back. “You were right – what a turd!” she giggled. “And anyway,” she continued, “It’s not like we were – you know,” she floundered, blushing now.

“What?” he asked, his grin fading.

“Well, we weren’t... _kissing..._ ’ she replied awkwardly.

“No, we weren’t,” he said thoughtfully, watching her closely.

“I mean, it’s not like that between us,” she continued, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. “Is it?”

“I suppose it isn’t,” he admitted. She thought she saw some emotion flit across his face.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he answered steadily, picking up his bag. “I should be going. I’ll see you in school on Monday.”

She watched him let himself out the gate, suddenly feeling lost. She sensed that something had changed between them but she wasn’t quite sure what.

He strolled home thinking about what had just happened. She’d shown that she was more than capable of standing up to bullies now. He was glad to know he’d had something to do with that. It was their conversation afterwards that was bothering him.

Yes, they’d been sitting in a tree. And no, they hadn’t been kissing. And that was fine. Until he’d realised that maybe they could have been. And maybe he wished they had been. And maybe now they never would.


	6. To Her Door

John’s mother noticed he was quieter than usual over dinner that night. She asked carefully how things were at school, and received a non-committal shrug and grunt in response. Nothing strange there. She realised though, that she hadn’t seen him so withdrawn since they first moved to the area, before he’d settled in at school and made a friend. _A-ha_ , she thought, _maybe he had a falling out with him_. She decided to change tack.

“I thought we might see a movie this weekend,” she said lightly. That got his attention.

“Cool,” he said, smiling now.

“Would you like to bring your new friend? It would be a good chance for me to meet him,” she continued.

He frowned slightly and remained silent.

“Did you have a fight?” she asked gently, placing her hand on his and giving him a gentle squeeze.

“No,” he sighed. “Nothing like that.”

She looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear more.

“A boy in our class teased us today about kissing each other,” he suddenly blurted out.

“ _Kissing each other?!_ ” his mother responded in surprise.

“Yeah, and she got upset…” he went on before his Mom suddenly interrupted.

“ _She?_ You mean, your friend is a girl?” she asked, smiling now.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, before sighing. “But I’m not sure she’s my friend anymore.”

“Oh John,” she sympathized. “Tell me what she said.”

“Well, first she saw the bully off,” he began, smiling for a moment at the memory. His mother noted the smile and what looked like a hint of pride, and had to work to prevent the same expression spreading across her own face.

“Then she said that it’s not like that between me and her,” he said, looking pained now, and a little embarrassed. He’d never discussed anything like this with his Mom before.

“And you wish it was?” she asked him gently.

“To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it before that. I just like hanging out with her. She needs a friend and I do too,” he finished sadly.

“I take it then that she’s the friend you see sometimes when you go out on your bike on the weekend?” his Mom asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Well, why don’t you go out for a ride with her on Sunday afternoon? Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. Just be there for her,” she said reasonably.

He considered the suggestion for a moment. _Why not_ , he thought, suddenly hopeful that he could salvage the friendship.

“On one condition though,” his Mom continued, in mock seriousness.

“What?” he asked, smiling again now.

“You and I still see that movie on Saturday.”

“Deal!” he agreed.

***

On Sunday afternoon, Carrie took her book and lowered herself into the porch swing. John had said he’d see her at school, and she felt a little lonely knowing that he wouldn’t come by and suggest they head to the park or go for a soda.

She glanced towards Billy’s house and realised she hated the little turd for making things awkward between them. She hadn’t realised until now how much she enjoyed doing homework or walking home together, and how she’d looked forward to perhaps going with him to the park on the weekend.  

She shook her head and opened her book, preparing to lose herself in it for a couple of hours before she had to help her father prepare dinner. She had only read a few pages when she heard a familiar voice call to her from the street, “Hey...”

There he was.

“Hey yourself,” she said, scrambling to her feet so fast she almost fell to the floor. Her heart was thumping in her chest.

“Wondered if you’d like to go to the park,” he ventured casually.

“Sure,” she responded, her grin chasing away her earlier frown.

He watched as she opened the door and called inside that she was going to the park, before gathering her bike and joining him at the gate. They fell into their usual easy banter and passed a pleasant hour together.

When they returned to her house, they noticed Billy playing in his front yard and exchanged a silent glance. Billy looked over at them, then turned wordlessly and went inside to clean up before dinner.

John winked at her and she tried to suppress a giggle. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said lightly.

“Yeah,” she smiled. She stood at the fence, watching until he was out of sight, relieved and happy that he’d come around.

“Who was that?” came her father’s voice from the porch.

“A friend from school,” she shrugged, still smiling as she put away her bike.

“Friend or boyfriend _?_ Have you warned him about my shotgun?” he teased gently, eyebrows raised.

“ _Da-ad!_ ” she protested, rolling her eyes in exasperation as she climbed the stairs.

Frank put his arm around her shoulders and they walked through the front door together. He’d noticed her smile after she farewelled the boy on the bike. He hadn’t seen enough of that smile for months now. If this was the friend she’d been hanging out with sometimes on the weekend, and he made her smile like that, Frank was glad she’d found him.

_The shotgun can wait,_ he thought, with a smile of his own.


	7. Anatomically Correct

Summer was drawing to a close. Frank had taken the last month off work to catch up on maintenance around the house and take his daughters up to the cabin. The girls had always loved spending time there. He’d taught them to swim and fish there on family holidays when they were very young. This summer had been their first trip there without Ellen. He’d resolved to make sure they all enjoyed themselves and created some new and happy memories. They’d swum, canoed and hiked during the days and barbequed on the deck at night. It had helped that both girls had been more than ready for a break.

Maggie had finished the school year exhausted after her exams. She was a Straight A student who was not only bright, but worked hard to excel. After the summer she would be starting her last year of high school, so she wanted to do well. In between finishing school and holidaying at the cabin, she’d spent time hanging out with friends and had made a little extra pocket money babysitting some of the young children she occasionally looked after on weekends.

Carrie too had been busy at the end of the school year studying for exams and finishing off her last couple of projects. Once school was over, Maggie had invited her to tag along sometimes when she saw her friends or had babysitting jobs, and she’d hung out with Carrie as much as possible when she was free, but Carrie had also spent a bit of time on her own. In some ways, she was looking forward to the start of the school year. It would be her last year of middle school. It also meant she’d see John again.

John’s mother was only able to take a couple of weeks off work during the summer, so she’d arranged with John’s uncles for him to spend a week or two with each of them in turn so he could hang out with his cousins. She felt it was important for him to have the opportunity to build strong relationships with them as he was an only child. She also appreciated his uncles providing paternal influences in his life.

John had enjoyed the time with his extended family. The highlights for him had been the camping trips his uncles had taken him and his cousins on, where they’d hiked, fished, built fires, got up to harmless mischief and generally made him feel like one of the guys. In some of the quieter moments around the campfire he missed his father and wished he was there to share the experience. He also thought of Carrie and wondered how she was enjoying the summer.

The first day of school rolled around soon enough. Carrie arrived early, took a deep breath and wandered through the school gate.

She smiled at several girls she knew as she looked around at the small groups of friends catching up, but couldn’t see John anywhere. She made her way to their classroom and stepped inside. A number of other students had already arrived and were chatting noisily. The highly prized back row was already full, so she chose a seat in the second row next to the wall where she had a good view of the door. The room was filling up fast. A girl she’d never met before sat at the next desk and gave her a nervous smile. And then she saw him.

He was standing in the doorway of the classroom scanning the room. He’d grown taller over the summer and was very tanned. His eyes settled on her and he smiled and started moving towards her. He sat down at the desk behind her but before either of them could speak, the teacher arrived and called for quiet ahead of introductions and information about the new school year.

Eventually it was time for recess and she noticed him fall into step behind her, following her to a bench outside in the fresh air. “Hey,” he said casually as he sat down beside her, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

“Hey yourself,” she said, pleased to finally be with him again. “How was your summer? Did you have fun with your cousins?” she asked, reaching into her bag and placing her lunch on the bench. “Hey!” she laughed as his hand quickly darted out and snaffled the cookies she’d packed. He peeled back their wrapping and took one before she could grab them. She shook her head in mock exasperation as he chewed.

“It was great,” he said, eventually, after swallowing. “But there weren’t too many of these,” he smiled, returning the rest of the cookies. She removed another from the package and handed it to him, pleased she’d brought extra.

“So they didn’t feed you?” she joked, taking a bite of a cookie herself, enjoying the comfortable way they’d slipped back into their groove.

“Only things that could be cooked over a campfire,” he shrugged. “How about you? Have you had a good summer?”

“Yeah, not bad,” she said thoughtfully, “The last few weeks were the best part – Dad took Maggie and me up to our cabin and we had a ball.”

“Sounds like fun,” he agreed. He looked her over as she dusted crumbs off her lap and noticed her figure was a little more shapely and her hair longer than he remembered. She glanced up at him and he gave her one of his trademark small smiles. 

Eventually recess ended and so did their conversation and any doubts they might have had about whether their friendship could withstand the summer apart. Their confidence was buoyed and they felt like they could weather anything.

 

***

 

Over the next week they found they had a number of subjects together. In addition to the core Mathematics, Science and English courses, both were taking Geography and History. Also among their electives, he had signed up for Spanish and she had chosen Music.

They had agreed to meet at the school gate on Thursday morning as they had Science together first up. She frowned and looked at her watch as she heard the bell ring, calling everyone to class. He was never late. _Where the hell was he?_ A couple of minutes later he arrived, pushing his bike. "Puncture," he said briefly, shoving it into the nearest bike rack. They hurried to class, hopeful that Mr Sinclair, who was new to the school, would overlook their late arrival.

John opened the classroom door and stood back for her to enter. She smiled awkwardly at Mr Sinclair by way of apology and he gestured for her to take one of the two vacant seats in the centre of the front row. She glanced around the room, immediately noticing that everyone else was sitting in pairs. Each girl was paired with another girl and each boy with another boy. Most were using the interruption to whisper and giggle about something. 

John slid into the spare seat beside her, also looking around them. "Must be a group exercise this morning," he murmured to her quietly as he bent to rummage in his bag for his notebook and pen. He looked up at her when she didn’t reply and saw she was transfixed by something on the board. He turned and read with horror the outline of the lesson.

_ Sexuality and Health Education _

  * _Sexual Anatomy_
  * _Reproduction_
  * _Sexual Intercourse_
  * _Sexual Health and Contraception_



Mr Sinclair collected a sheaf of papers from his desk and handed it to them, explaining briefly that he'd devised some exercises to be completed in pairs to try to make the session a little more engaging. He said they'd have to work together as everyone else had already paired off. Carrie bit her lip and nodded. "Thanks," John said hoarsely, only slightly relieved when Mr Sinclair moved away from them and began fumbling with a projector. _Holy shit,_ he thought.

Mr Sinclair shone diagrams of naked male and female forms onto a screen at the front of the room and asked everyone to turn to the first exercise in their booklets. It was the same diagram, but with blank lines adjacent to relevant body parts that were to be used to label them.

John glanced sideways at Carrie and saw she was blushing. Carrie snuck a look at John and noticed his jaw was clenched. Neither of them was willing to make the first move. "I'll give everyone ten minutes to complete this exercise," announced Mr Sinclair. "We have plenty of time to cover everything - it's a double period this morning and anything we don't finish we'll get back to this time next week."

 _Oh crap_ , she thought, _there’s no getting out of this_. Sighing, she picked up her pen and used it to point to the female diagram. "I'll fill in the blanks here," she said, trying to sound like it was any of the other joint exercises they'd worked on in classes previously. "You take the other one."

 _Thank God,_ he thought with relief, _maybe we can get through this after all_. "On it," he said reasonably, without looking at her. Before long they were comparing their responses with a new set of labelled diagrams that the teacher projected onto the screen. "There, that wasn't so bad," Mr Sinclair said brightly. "Now, let's move on to the female reproductive system. Please turn to the second exercise in your booklets."

Carrie squirmed slightly in her seat. John groaned under his breath.

It was going to be a long morning…


	8. Days Like These

The year was drawing to a close with fewer daylight hours and longer, cooler nights.

Maggie had started dating the older brother of one of her girlfriends. His name was Bill and he was a gentleman in every way. They saw each other most weekends and he often stayed for dinner. Frank took these opportunities to draw him out on various topics, especially politics, which led to some spirited discussions. Maggie was content to watch her Dad and her boyfriend sparring, and was amused when Carrie occasionally leapt into the fray with interesting views of her own.

Frank found Bill very likeable and approved of the fact that he didn’t try to keep Maggie out late at times when she needed to focus on her studies. So far, he had not felt compelled to set a curfew for Maggie. He wondered idly if it would be this easy when Carrie began dating.

Carrie and John were walking home one Friday afternoon when their conversation turned to weekend plans. “Ugh,” grimaced Carrie, “Bill’s taking Maggie to a neighbourhood fair in his part of town on Saturday. Maggie’s insisting I join them.”

“What’s wrong with that?” quizzed John.

“Well, when she invited me to the movies with them a couple of weeks ago, I had to sit there while they held hands and, you know…” she trailed off.

“Yeah, three’s a crowd,” he agreed, looking at her appraisingly. “Why don’t you hang out with them for an hour and then say you’re meeting a friend?” he suggested.

“And spend the rest of the time trying not to run into them on my own?” she frowned.

“I could meet you there,” he shrugged.

She considered his offer for a moment. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Nah,” he smiled. “I haven’t been to a fair in years.”

“Sure, OK,” she said, relieved. “That would be great.”

They parted ways soon after, both looking forward to their day out.

The next morning was gloriously sunny. Maggie noticed during breakfast that Carrie seemed quietly excited. “Bill will be here in an hour to pick us up,” she informed Carrie.

“Great,” said Carrie, flashing her a smile. “Oh, by the way, I’ve arranged to meet a friend there, so I’ll stick around with you guys for a while and then meet you when it’s time to come home.”

 _Ahhh_ , thought Maggie, realising now the reason for Carrie’s anticipation. No doubt she was meeting the boy she’d been hanging out with lately. She suppressed a smile.

True to her word, Carrie spent time with Maggie and Bill before agreeing where to meet them again a few hours later. She set off with a spring in her step and grinned when she found John near the ticket booth.

They wandered slowly through the crowd and eventually found themselves standing by the bumper cars.

“Have you ever tried these?” he asked, a gleam in his eye.

“I’m game,” she shrugged.

When he ploughed straight into the back of her car as soon as their ride began, she understood the reason for his mischievous smile. She’d screamed with shock, which of course made him laugh and crash into her again. Soon she got the hang of it and was able to avoid other cars to some extent. By the end of the ride, she was laughing too.

Next they moved on to the shooting gallery. Carrie picked up one of the mock rifles on the counter and the stall operator stood and looked her over. “Three shots per game,” he said briefly. “Hit the bullseye once, choose a prize from the bottom row. Twice, the middle row. Three times, the top row.” His tone and the fact that he immediately sat back down on his stool suggested that he didn’t expect to be handing her a prize any time soon. Her first shot was way off the mark, as was her second. Her third hit the outer edge of the target. “Not as easy as it looks,” he observed.

“No shit,” she mumbled under her breath, red-faced.

John stepped forward. The stall operator glanced at him and began in the same bored tone, “Three shots…”

“I heard you,” said John, cutting him off.

He hefted the rifle Carrie had used and gave her a sidelong look. He stood perfectly still and placed his first shot just inside the edge of the bullseye.

“Wow!” exclaimed Carrie.

“Lucky break,” commented the stall operator.

“Maybe,” said John.

Something in his voice made Carrie suspect it had nothing to do with luck. She watched closely as he considered the target for a moment, before slightly adjusting his stance and placing his second and third shots dead centre in quick succession.

The stall operator gaped in amazement. “Uh, take your pick of anything from the top row,” he said when he found his voice.

John inspected the prizes and saw they were all oversized stuffed toys. “What would you like?” he asked Carrie quietly, causing her to blush again.

“Um, one of the teddy bears, I guess,” she answered, flustered.

The stall holder had been watching their exchange and wordlessly handed her a large white teddy bear. They moved away from the counter and when Carrie turned over the bear to look at it, she noticed it had a red heart embroidered on the left side of its chest. She ran her finger over the heart and glanced up at John, catching him smiling.

“Thanks,” she managed, shyly.

They strolled along in companionable silence for a couple of minutes.

“So, where did you learn to shoot like that?” she finally blurted out.

 _Here we go_ , he thought.

“My Dad taught me,” he said briefly, knowing this wouldn’t be enough for her.

“At a range?” she wanted to know, “Or did he take you hunting?”

“Both,” he admitted. He saw that she still wasn’t satisfied and sighed. “My Dad was a soldier. So are my uncles. Dad used to take me to the range with him sometimes and we’d also go on hunting trips with my uncles and cousins.”

“You’re a pretty good shot,” she observed.

“Runs in the family,” he deflected, hoping the subject was now closed.

A moment later he smiled, having found the perfect distraction. He gestured to the small ferris wheel ahead. “Would you like to go for a ride?”

“Sure,” she agreed, moving towards the queue.

Soon they were clambering into a cosy, two-seater basket. They looked down at the fair below as the wheel turned a lazy first lap. On the next circuit, it stopped for more riders when they were at the top of the arc. The basket began to sway in the breeze.

Carrie clutched the enormous teddy bear on her lap with one hand and grabbed hold of the cage with the other. John looked at her, amused.

“Hey,” he said gently, “there’s no need to be scared.” _I’ll look after you._

“I know,” she breathed, relaxing her grip slightly.

When it was time to find Maggie and Bill, he insisted on staying with her until they met her at the agreed point. “Carrie!” began Maggie in an excited voice, “Look what Bill won for me!” She moved to thrust forward for inspection a teddy bear identical to Carrie’s, but about half the size, when she suddenly noticed what Carrie was holding. Carrie turned bright red and Maggie burst out laughing. Bill looked John over, shook his head and smiled. He clapped John on the back and asked with mock humility, “Can I at least give you a ride home?”


	9. Into My Arms

The summer that Carrie was fifteen, she landed a job in a music store with a huge jazz selection, much to her father’s delight. Frank would arrive early to pick her up any time she needed a ride home and browse the new records, looking to add to his already extensive jazz collection.

John got a job mowing lawns. It was hot, sweaty work, but he liked being outdoors. It also gave him plenty of pocket money and a leg up on his savings for college. When Frank put his back out yet again, this time shifting furniture, he rang the local lawn service as he usually did and asked them to send someone around to keep the yard under control until he recovered. This time it happened to be John.

The first time he came to mow their lawn, it was her day off. The mercury was heading towards a record temperature, so she’d been sitting around with the fan blowing, doing nothing much but sipping soda and listening to some of Frank’s new records. With all the exposure to jazz at work and at home, she was starting to really get into it. Hearing a lawn mower come to life, she moved near the window preparing to crank the volume to combat the roar of the motor and there he was. Shirt off, strong and tanned from many days working in the sun. She watched him for a moment or two before he turned, through some sixth sense, and caught her gazing at him, a distracted smile on her lips.

Afterwards, he loaded his equipment onto his truck and returned to the house. She met him on the porch, soda at the ready. He took the can she offered, nodded his thanks, and gulped half of it down immediately. “My first and last job for the day,” he smiled, collapsing onto one of the porch chairs, long legs relaxed in front of him. “Too hot to work?” she queried, folding herself into the swing opposite. “Yeah,” he puffed as he belted back the rest of the soda. “Thought I’d go for a swim instead,” he said, glancing over at her, before adding casually, “Want to join me?” “Sure,” she shrugged, finding it hard not to stare at his bare chest which was glistening with sweat. “I’ll grab my things.”

The screen door banged in her wake. He stood, leaning against the porch rail, waiting for her to return. They walked in silence to his truck. It was a second-hand pickup he’d bought a few months earlier after getting his driver’s licence. His Mom had decided to reward him for being responsible and saving most of the money he earned, and had offered to match his investment to make sure he bought something decent.

He waited till she was buckled up before turning on the engine and heading out of town. “Hey, isn’t the pool back that way?” she questioned.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but we’re not going to the pool. It’ll be too crowded today.”

“So where are we going?” she wanted to know.

“There’s a stream just outside of town”, he responded, glancing over at her. She noticed the air becoming fractionally cooler as they headed to their destination. Soon enough, he pulled into a tree-shaded area and cut the engine. She opened her door and stepped out onto the grass, taking in the tranquillity around them. They had the stream and surrounds to themselves.

He came around to her side of the truck and removed a towel from a box slotted between his mowing equipment and the windshield. Clutching her tote to her chest, she asked jokingly, “Where’s the ladies’ room?” He gestured to a large tree several yards away, saying, “I think it’s behind there,” smiling his small smile.

He strolled towards the stream, giving her some privacy. He’d stumbled across this spot a few years earlier when he’d first moved to the area and used to spend his free time roaming on his bike. He’d been coming back here to swim and enjoy the quiet ever since. He found a flat, grassy area with good shade, stretched out his towel and unlaced his boots. Kicking them off, he removed his socks and wandered down to the bank. He bent to dip one foot into the water and found it as inviting as he’d hoped. He took a breath and jumped in. The water was clear and cool – a welcome change from the building heat of the day. He allowed himself to drift for a while with the gentle current, floating on his back, before his attention was drawn to movement on the bank.

There she stood, a little awkwardly, in a simple navy, halter neck bikini. “How is it?” she asked, brushing back a strand of blonde hair. _The water or the view,_ he wondered distractedly, taking in her long, lean limbs, milky skin and gentle curves. “It’s great,” he breathed, “Jump in!”

Soon they were frolicking in the stream, splashing each other good naturedly, laughing and swimming from one bank to the other, climbing out, leaping and diving back in. Once the sun had finally moved overhead, they decided to climb out and rest for a while in the shade.

He reached the bank first and began to clamber out. He turned to suggest a race to their towels just as she slipped on an area of the bank that was soaked from their earlier play. She squealed and he reached for her hand, stopping her from falling back into the stream. “I’ve got you,” he said steadily, pulling her to himself, his other hand finding its way to her waist. “You ok?” he asked quietly, taking in her big blue eyes up close. “Yeah, thanks,” she whispered, her embarrassment at her near fall evaporating as she looked up at his face.

He noticed, not for the first time, the two small freckles above her lip. He wondered, also not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss her, to feel her lips on his, to allow his lips to wander and to softly kiss those small freckles. He held her gaze a moment longer before turning, still holding her hand, and leading her to their towels. They dropped hands and lay on their backs, silent, neither looking at the other, their hearts racing.

She recovered first. “So, have you saved many damsels from drowning?” she quipped, leaning on one elbow to look at him.

“Only the ones worth the effort,” he smiled, also coming up onto one elbow.

She still felt the ghost of his hand at her waist and his strength in arresting her fall. It was the first time he’d taken her hand and she’d been surprised. Surprised how much she’d liked it and how she hoped he might do it again. But the bigger surprise was his tenderness and the affection she’d seen in his eyes when he’d pulled her close, ostensibly to check if she was ok.

His eyes roamed over her, lying on the towel in her bikini, hair still soaked from their swim, smile wide, eyes shining, and thought he’d never seen her look more beautiful. He longed to draw her close as he had before, to look into her eyes again and hopefully see the same longing reflected in them.

She watched as he ran his hand through his rapidly drying hair, dislodging the last few droplets of water which fell on his shoulders and slid slowly down his chest. She recalled noticing the sweat glistening there earlier that day and almost blushed at the memory. She wondered what it would be like to press her cheek to his chest and listen to his heart beating, if he held her close again.

“And you thought I was worth the effort?” she teased, trying to keep her tone light.

“I always have,” he answered carefully, watching her reaction.

“Always?” she said, puzzled. “What do you mean by always?”

“Right from when I knocked Billy Baxter on his ass at recess,” he explained with a small smile, “I’ve always thought you were worth the effort.”

Their eyes met and suddenly no more words were needed. He leaned towards her, placing his hand behind her neck to tip her head back to receive his kiss.

Their lips met, soft, gentle and tentative at first. She smiled against him after a few moments and he felt her arm slip around his hip, drawing him closer. Their lips parted slightly and the kiss deepened. She felt his tongue gently exploring her lips, and opened her mouth to him.

After a few more moments, she pulled back slightly to draw breath before they resumed, both savouring this new and tender closeness. Eventually he broke away, gently brushing his lips to her ear and murmuring, “C’mere.” He rolled back onto his towel and pulled her to lie with her head on his chest, the hand that had laid gently behind her neck now stroking her hair.

She closed her eyes and smiled again as she realised her ear was close enough to his heart to hear that it was beating as fast as her own. She found his free hand with hers and their fingers interlaced. He looked up at the slivers of blue sky visible through the canopy of the trees above them and thought it was the best day of his life.


	10. Leaps and Bounds

High school proved to be even better than Carrie and John had imagined. There were more interesting subjects to choose from and great extra-curricular activities. In addition to her timetable of core and elective courses, Carrie had joined the debating team. The team already boasted a strong record against other schools in the area and her confidence grew with each win. John signed up with the orienteering club to offset his academic schedule. Orienteering suited his fitness and love of the great outdoors, and allowed him to build on the navigation skills he’d learned from his father and extended family. Each found their new activities challenging and enjoyed sharing an interest with like-minded peers, something that didn’t usually come easily to either of them.

Their lives were busier than before. They shared fewer classes and their free periods rarely lined up, so they were spending more time together out of school hours than they had when they were simply friends. School nights were often occupied now with homework, study and assignments, so they saw each other on weekends and sometimes for an hour or two a couple of nights a week.

One evening, John picked up Carrie outside her house and drove to the stream outside of town, which was fast becoming 'their spot'. They both enjoyed the tranquillity and seclusion, although they couldn't rely on always having a public space to themselves. Sometimes they shared it with families picnicking or locals going for a stroll. Tonight, however, they seemed to be in luck. John parked the truck under a large, leafy tree where they could overlook the stream as night fell and switched off the engine. He turned down the volume on the radio, unbuckled his seat belt and looked over at Carrie, who was checking out the area. They'd only said hello when she'd climbed into his truck in front of her house. The new dynamic between them was still evolving and didn't yet include public displays of affection.

"Hey," he said quietly, as she finished her sweep and met his gaze.

"Hey yourself," she responded softly, almost shyly. She loved how gentle he was with her here.

"C'mere," he whispered, echoing his words the first time he'd held her close at this place. He took her hand and helped her slide across the bench seat to nestle into his side. He kissed the top of her head, his arm around her, holding her close.

"How was your day?" he ventured.

"Pretty good," she answered with a smile, "And getting better."

"Mine too," he said.

She leaned back a little to really look at him. He was still tanned from the summer and his blue-gray eyes twinkled. His hair stood up as crazily cute as ever. _He's outrageously good looking,_ she thought. She noticed his dimple showing as he took in her appraisal of him. "See anything you like?" he joked.

 _God, it's like he can read my mind!_ "Maybe," she smiled, keeping her cool and moving in to kiss him. She felt him angling towards her, the arm that had been around her now roaming over her back as his hand caressed her. His tongue gently teased and then parted her lips. _He's so good at this,_ she thought.

He felt her hand move behind his neck as she opened her mouth to him. He lifted her slightly so he could shimmy them both to the middle of the seat, away from the steering wheel. To his delight, she took it as an invitation and climbed into his lap, without breaking their kiss. Her hand moved from his neck to the back of his head where she gently clenched a handful of his hair. He felt her smile against his lips. _This is perfect,_ he thought, _she’s perfect_.

The last time she’d sat in his lap like this, he’d caressed her back, her waist, and her side as they’d kissed. For an instant, she thought she’d also felt a feathery touch at the side of her breast. She’d stiffened at the unfamiliar sensation, not even sure if he had really touched her. In fact he had, but he’d thought her reaction indicated she wasn’t ready, so he’d returned to his gentle rubbing of her back. Now, as she’d resumed the position, he thought she might be ready for him to try again. He kept one of his arms behind her back, his hand at her shoulder, supporting her as their lips and tongues explored one another. His other hand traced lightly down her side to her waist, then back up her ribs, lingering at the edge of her breast, with slightly more pressure than last time.

She gasped and broke the kiss, opening her eyes to look at him. His eyes were dark and held hers, wordlessly seeking permission. She flushed and leaned back into the arm that supported her, making herself more available to him. Still touching her lightly, he slid his hand from the side of her breast to the front, stroking, cupping and enjoying how it felt. All the while he held her gaze, hoping that she found it as exciting as he did. She leaned forward again, bringing both her arms around his neck to support herself while she kissed him, open mouthed, her tongue seeking his. He brought his hand from behind her shoulder to her other breast and gently caressed them both, then began lightly kneading as their kisses became hot and breathless. Through her clothing, he felt her nipples harden and gently brushed his thumbs over them. She gasped again, then whimpered softly against his mouth. He shifted slightly on the seat, aroused at touching her like this and the fact that it was turning her on too. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, which rode up as they made their way underneath it, trailing up her warm, flat belly to trace her curves.

Suddenly the cabin of the truck was lit by the headlights of a car pulling off the road and moving past them to park a few trees over. They stopped kissing instantly and he withdrew his hands from under her shirt, both of them startled as the moment was broken, and squinted in the light. He moved one hand behind her shoulder again and the other went to the small of her back, clutching her safely to him. _Fucking dog walkers_ , he thought as they watched a middle aged couple get out of the car and release a small, yappy mutt which instantly started cocking its leg on every tree in the area.

She leaned back a little and smoothed her shirt down, suddenly feeling self-conscious as he helped her clamber back onto the seat next to him. He took her hand and kissed it, hoping to convey that she need not feel embarrassed, and placed it carefully on his thigh before covering it with his own. “Maybe we should head back,” he suggested. She nodded gratefully and he turned the key in the ignition.

On the way home, they made a plan to see a movie together on the weekend. She lingered in the truck a moment after he’d pulled up outside her house. “Want me to walk you in?” he offered.

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head, not ready for that conversation with her father. She hesitated a moment then, blushing, said in a low voice, “I had fun tonight.”

“Me too,” he said, reaching for her hand again and giving it a squeeze. He watched as she made her way up the stairs and turned to wave him goodbye.

She spent a few minutes chatting with her father about their days before she excused herself to turn in for the night. She thought about her evening with John as she changed into pajamas and snuggled down under the covers. She wondered if he was thinking about their evening too. She yawned and switched off her lamp, a final thought flitting through her head before sleep descended. _Fucking dog walkers_.


	11. Girlfriend For Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the always supportive FrangipaniFlower - I hope it's worth the wait! ♥

John’s mother smiled as she saw him catch sight of his reflection in the mirror in their entryway and begin trying to smooth down the front of his hair.

“It adds to your charm,” she quipped.

“What?” he asked absently, giving up on his hair and fiddling with his shirt collar. He wondered whether he should fasten the top button.

“You look very handsome,” she said, reaching up to place her hands on his shoulders and spin him around to face her. “She’s a lucky girl,” she continued, adjusting his collar and smoothing the shoulders of his shirt where she’d held onto him. She chucked him under the chin before lightly tapping one finger on the tip of his nose as she’d often done when he was small. She was proud of the young man he’d become – hard working, responsible, respectful – she knew his father would have been proud too.

“She’s very special to you, isn’t she?” she asked softly.

Like all the men in his family, John was reluctant to discuss emotional matters. On this occasion he simply pressed his lips together in response, but the look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. She inhaled deeply and, like all mothers, prayed he would never feel the pain of a broken heart.

Smiling brightly to camouflage her fears, she reached up to give him a peck on the cheek, before opening the front door and pushing him through it, saying lightly, “Have fun!”

She meant it too. She knew she didn’t need to caution him about being careful behind the wheel, staying out too late or playing fast and loose with his date’s affections. He was very much his father’s son and she knew he would treat his girl like a queen. She just hoped his queen would appreciate his devotion. 

John pulled up outside Carrie’s house a few minutes early and noticed she wasn’t waiting on the porch as she usually did. He stepped out of his truck and made his way to her front door. He knocked and stepped back while he waited for someone to answer. Soon he saw a shadow through the glass and Frank opened the door to him. Frank look him over briefly before sticking out his hand in greeting and saying warmly, “You must be John. Come in, Carrie shouldn’t be long.”

John shook his hand and looked him in the eye, saying, “Thanks, Mr Mathison,” as he followed him into the living room. Before he had a chance to take the seat Frank offered, Carrie bounded down the stairs, fresh faced with just a slick of tinted gloss on her lips, her hair a golden curtain swinging around her. _Wow_ , he thought, _she really is a knockout._

“Hey,” she smiled.  _God, he looked gorgeous._

“Hey,” he responded casually, conscious that her father was watching their exchange.

She grabbed a jacket from the hooks near the front door and inclined her head, indicating that they should be going. She doubled back to give Frank a quick hug and say goodbye.

They walked in companionable silence the short distance to his truck where he opened the door for her, mindful that her father was likely still watching them. As he rounded the truck, he glanced back at the house and noticed a shadow behind the glass of the front door. He suppressed a smile. His instinct had been correct.

On the drive to the cinema, they chatted about the movies currently screening and he took the opportunity to steal a few looks at her as she sat there, talking animatedly on the passenger seat. She was wearing a cute, denim button-through dress with knee high boots. The top and bottom buttons of the dress were undone. It finished a few inches above the knee, but had ridden up a little when she’d climbed onto the seat, affording him a glimpse of her slender thighs.

Soon enough they reached the mall and John nosed into a parking space on the back wall of the garage adjacent to the cinema. Their discussion en route had led them to agree on a shortlist of three movies so once they’d wandered over to the cinema, they checked the program board for session times. The new Batman and James Bond movies were showing hourly and both had sessions starting in the next fifteen minutes. The third film on their list was a sci fi thriller that wasn’t showing for nearly an hour and a half.

“Batman or Bond?” he asked, open to either option.

“Hmmm,” she mused teasingly, “Dark, brooding loner who fights bad guys or handsome spy who always gets the girl…”

“Good choice, I like girls too,” he joked.

He stood behind her in the queue for tickets, breathing in the smell of her hair. When they reached the front of the line, he noticed her reaching into her handbag for her wallet as she asked for their tickets. He gently placed his hand over hers and said quietly, “I’ve got this.” They made their way over to the snacks counter where Carrie insisted on paying and ordered them a large popcorn and an extra-large soda. He looked at her in surprise until she pushed two straws into the soda and passed it to him, looking up from under her lashes with a shy smile.

Despite the fact the movie was showing hourly, the cinema was filling fast and they had to settle for seats in the middle row. When the lights went down, John lifted the armrest between them, slid his arm around Carrie and pulled her to him. She smiled up at him before nestling in with her head on his shoulder. _Eat your heart out, James Bond,_ he thought, smiling to himself _._ They were gripped by the signature opening stunt sequence and began making inroads in the popcorn as the story played out. The bucket sat on Carrie’s lap where both could reach it, but that didn’t stop her feeding him a piece or two every now and then. He couldn’t resist suddenly nipping her fingers when she fed him a piece during one of the more suspenseful scenes, causing her to startle and showering them both in popcorn, much to his amusement. When she playfully punched him in the chest in retaliation, he grabbed her fist and pulled her in for a kiss. She put the popcorn bucket down as she leant into him, melting against his chest as their mouths opened to each other and the kiss deepened. When they came up for air, he pressed his forehead to hers, wanting to hold her like this in their own little cocoon forever. She slid back down beside him, looking flushed, and took his hand, glancing up at him as if to check that it was ok. He smiled and picked up her hand, kissing it, before placing both their hands on her lap. 

A little later, he lifted the soda from his armrest and offered it to her. She let go of his hand to accept it and when she paused between sips, a few drops of condensation fell onto his hand, which was still resting lightly on her lap. He smiled as an idea snuck into his head and he moved his hand away gently, easing her dress up slightly as he did so, which meant that the next drops fell onto her bare thigh. She flinched and tried to return the cup to him, but John’s hand was busy wiping away the icy water and warming the cold spot it had left.

“You did that on purpose!” she whispered, giggling.

He grabbed the soda, took a long pull on it and replaced it in the armrest, then smoothly transferred his cold hand to her inner thigh and whispered, “I don’t know what you mean!”, holding it in place as she squealed and tried to wriggle away. He made amends by pulling her back into an embrace, kissing the top of her head and helping her get comfortable against him once again.

Eventually, Bond seduced the girl and saved the day, and the credits started rolling, but neither of them was in a hurry to leave. When the lights came up, she reluctantly lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled up at him.

“Straight home?” he queried, “Or is there time for icecream?”

“Maybe a quick icecream,” she agreed, glancing at her watch before getting to her feet and towing him along behind her as they left the cinema. They strolled through the foyer and pushed through the door to the carpark, which had largely emptied out. “As long as you keep your freezing hands to yourself!” she sassed, and tried to duck away from him.

He jerked the hand holding hers so that she spun back into him. He caught her and pulled her close, sliding one hand down her back and cupping her ass.

“I thought you liked my hands on you,” he challenged quietly, eyes smiling but dark.

“Yeah, I do,” she admitted, flushing slightly. “I like it more than icecream,” she said meaningfully.

A few moments later, they were back in his truck, she was straddling his lap and they were sharing hot, open-mouthed kisses. The second last button of her dress had popped open as she climbed over him, revealing a lot more thigh, and he ran his hands over them appreciatively. Soon his hands slid to her hips and waist, before starting to work on the buttons that would give him access to her breasts. Once they were undone, he broke the kiss to look down and watch as he opened the clasp at the front of her bra. His hands moved gently under the cups, easing them away as he covered her breasts and began to caress her. He started kissing her again, gently kneading her breasts as she snaked her arms around his neck and leaned into his touch. He felt her gasp as he traced her nipples with the tips of his fingers.

Touching her like this and feeling her response was having an effect on him too. He felt constricted in his jeans and moved his hands to her waist to support her while he changed position slightly. She thought he was trying to make her more comfortable so she sat down onto him and felt his firmness beneath her. She gasped and sprang up to take her weight on her legs again.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he began, as she pulled the front of her dress to cover herself and climbed back onto the seat beside him.

“It’s ok,” she said with an awkward smile, “You just surprised me is all.”

“I’m not trying to force you into anything,” he reassured her, gently brushing her hair back so they could see each other clearly. “I don’t want to fuck things up between us,” he said with quiet honesty. _I really like you._  

She nodded, relaxing. “Let’s just take it slowly,” she smiled, her confidence buoyed by his declaration. _I like you too._

He cupped her cheek and kissed her carefully. He turned the key in the ignition and fiddled with the heater to give her a little privacy as she fastened her clothing. _No_ _Carrie, I **really** like you_ , he thought.

All buttoned up now, she tucked her hair behind her ears, put her hand on his lap for the drive home and smiled. _I get it, John, and I **really** like you too_.


	12. Before Too Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For FrangipaniFlower and Cheesecake_97 - a little summer holiday reading ♥

Carrie stopped at her locker between classes to drop off text books and notepads no longer needed that day. She was humming as she hurriedly reloaded her bag with books for the next couple of periods when she sensed a presence behind her. Turning her head sharply, she saw John leaning against the wall opposite, quietly watching her.

“Hey,” she said, shouldering her bag, closing the locker door and preparing to head to class.

“Is everything ok?” he asked, concern evident in his face.

“Just late for class,” she said hurriedly, with a fleeting smile.

He crossed the hallway and put his hand on her upper arm to slow her departure and scored an impatient look. 

“Carrie, you’ve spent every lunchbreak and free period this week in the library and we haven’t seen each other once after school,” he began carefully. “I get that you have a lot on your plate right now, but you need to take a break,” he continued gently. 

“Shit, John, you sound like my Dad!” she said dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Next you’ll be asking what time I got to bed!” 

He certainly didn’t want his concern to be seen as parental, so he decided to try a different tack. He knew she enjoyed the challenge of having a lot of irons in the fire and prided herself on being well organised for her debates and assessments. 

“Look, I’ve been thinking, why don’t we start our English assignment?” he suggested reasonably, taking her in his arms now. “We’re supposed to pair up to compare and contrast two works by one of the authors on this semester’s reading list. I’m happy to read whatever you want me to read and we could spend a bit more time together.” _And I could keep my eye on you_ , he thought, worry still nagging at him. 

He was relieved to see a smile more like the one he’d grown to love. “I’d like that,” she said. “And I’ve already picked the books!” 

“Without consulting me?” he asked with mock outrage. 

She broke away and gave him a playful shove to the chest. “Walk me home today and I’ll give you your book,” she smiled. 

He relaxed a little at that and nodded his agreement. She took a step closer again to stand on tiptoes and whisper in his ear, “And maybe a little reward for good behaviour…” 

He shivered in a good way as her hair brushed against him, then she slipped past, peering back over her shoulder to give him a secret smile to see him through until later in the afternoon. 

He was waiting outside her classroom when the bell signalled the end of the school day. He was pleased to observe she was one of the first out the door – maybe she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her. 

They caught up on each other’s week on the walk home. He listened with amusement to her tale of an altercation during the debating team’s preparation for an upcoming competition with other schools in the area. The captain had been shouted down when he suggested the entire team attend all their opponents’ debates for the next month in order to understand their strategies and strengths. It was the last thing the team wanted to hear when they were all trying to juggle assignments, study and part time jobs and they’d told him so. Carrie had seen both the value in having the information and the need to minimise their workload, and had brokered the compromise that one team member would attend each debate and report their findings at subsequent team meetings. John felt sure he was holding the hand of the next debating team captain. 

“Snack?” she offered as he followed her through the front gate. “Sandwich, crackers, cookies?” 

He shook his head. _Just you._  

“Straight into it then,” she breathed. She deviated from the front walk, which surprised him, and started for the side of the house. 

“Where are we going?” he asked. 

“I need more space in my bedroom,” she said, “so I moved some of my books out here while I reorganize.” 

 _Need more space for what,_ he wondered. He forgot the thought almost immediately though when he realised she was gesturing to the treehouse. 

It had been a long time since he’d visited the treehouse. She paused as she reached it, suddenly self-conscious at the thought of climbing up ahead of him. “After you,” she gestured. 

He sensed her concern immediately and wasn’t about to miss this opportunity to check out her form as she wiggled up the ladder. “Ladies first,” he insisted, his eyes twinkling. 

Thankful she’d worn jeans that day instead of a skirt, she made her way into the treehouse. He stood, admiring her lean legs and cute ass in the tight denim as she shimmied up and out of view. 

When he reached the top of the ladder a few moments later, he saw that she wasn’t joking about finding a temporary home for her books. The treehouse had previously felt like a sanctuary, or even a cosy reading nook. The floor cushions were still there, but before there’d been a cheerful scattering of favourite books, library books, books she’d borrowed from her sister and father, and sheafs of paper for doodling. Now there were carefully organised stacks of notebooks of various colours, reference books, dictionaries and novels. 

She grabbed two books from one of the stacks of novels, sat cross-legged on one of the oversized cushions and motioned for him to join her in the tight space. “I was thinking Dickens,” she announced. 

“What?” he asked, a little distracted as he took in their surroundings. 

“Our English assignment. Two books from an author on the reading list,” she reminded him. 

“Oh, yeah,” he said, focussing again on why they were here. “So, what am I reading?” 

“Great Expectations,” she answered, passing him one of the books. 

He glanced at the cover, shrugged his agreement and tucked the book into his backpack. “What are you reading?” he asked. 

“A Tale of Two Cities,” she responded. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said suddenly, her book sliding to the floor as she reached for a jar of pens next to the pile of notebooks. She selected a blue highlighter marker and held it out to him. “For making notes,” she said by way of explanation. 

“I have highlighters too,” he smiled. 

“You always use yellow,” she explained, sheepishly. “I’ve colour coded my stationery for each subject to help with staying organised. English is blue,” she said, nodding for him to take the pen. 

 _Shit,_ he thought as he accepted it, _she’s serious. Colour coded stationery? She really does need a break, even if she won’t admit it. Maybe a distraction will do for now._  

“Sooo,” he drawled playfully, leaning back slightly onto his hands, “about that reward…” 

His eyes danced as she moved foward and crawled over him, seating herself on his lap, her arms around his neck, pulling him close. “Remember the last time we went out for _icecream_?” she began, smiling meaningfully. 

He nodded. He loved taking her out for _icecream_. 

“Well, Maggie had stayed in to watch the Orioles game with Dad. He was in the kitchen making popcorn when I walked in so I sat down with her to watch a couple of innings. She caught me up on the highlights and while we were talking, she quietly pointed out that I’d missed a buttonhole on my shirt.” 

“Shit!” he swore, worried where this might be going. 

“That’s what I thought,” she smiled, “but she was really great about it.” 

“What did she say?” he asked cautiously. 

“Nothing then, because Dad came back in with the popcorn,” she said on a half laugh. “The next night though, when we were cleaning up the kitchen, she asked me how things were going with you. She said she understands that I’m more private than she is, but you are more than welcome in our home. She told me that if I ever want to talk or need her help, she’s there.” _Just like always,_ Carrie thought. These past years, Maggie had been there for her like their mother should have been – from her first period to navigating these new waters. 

“She reminded me that Dad had always been supportive of her dating Bill and made him feel welcome from the beginning. He never lectured her about staying out late or told her she couldn’t invite Bill here when he wasn’t home – he just trusted them to be responsible. He told her that she could talk to him about anything and even offered to take her to our family doctor if she wanted to go on the pill!” 

“Wow!” said John, amazed. 

“Yeah, she said the part about going to the doctor was a bit embarrassing though.” _And so typical,_ she’d thought when Maggie had confided in her. Frank loved his daughters so much that he would push through any awkwardness to say or do whatever he felt was necessary to support and protect them. 

“Then she went on to say that if _I_ wanted to go on the pill, she’d be happy to go with me to the doctor.”

John took a moment to really look at her, his eyes serious. Apparently she’d had more than study on her mind lately. He gently brushed back a loose strand of hair from her face and placed his arms around her before speaking. 

“Is that what you want to do – you want to start taking the pill?” he asked carefully. 

“Actually, I already have,” she breathed. “We’ve been taking it slowly, but some time soon…” she trailed off. “I want to be prepared,” she admitted, blushing. 

He realised the reward for his being patient and gentle was that he had won her trust and she was ready for the intimacy he longed for with her. 

“Well, there’s no pressure from me – about moving on or taking the pill,” he reassured her. “And while we’re on the subject, I don’t expect you to take on all the responsibility for being careful,” he told her, thinking of a purchase he’d made himself recently. “We’re in this together.” 

“I know,” she smiled, “and I appreciate that.” 

He pressed his forehead to hers, tightening his grip around her, and she felt safe and cherished, there in the place where their friendship had begun.


	13. Come Said The Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the beautiful FrangipaniFlower and bwg71

The day started like any other school day. John and Carrie were supposed to have an English period together at the end of it, but their teacher had gone home sick at lunchtime, leaving the instruction that the class should continue work on their reading assignment. Many hadn’t even chosen books yet and took the opportunity to head to the library, supposedly to make a selection, but in reality to spend the time socialising. Some decided to use the time to work on pending assessments for other subjects. John caught Carrie’s eye, subtly jangled the keys in his pocket and inclined his head to the door. With a smile, she hoisted her bag to her shoulder and nodded to the supervisor standing in as they hurried to join the trail of those who’d announced they were going to the library. Once they were out of view John took Carrie’s hand as they made a beeline for the carpark.

Before long, she was hurriedly locking her front door from the inside and slipping out of her ankle boots while he pressed hot kisses to the back of her neck. She spun around and he smiled and hoisted her up, causing her to squeal with laughter, then strode with her to the sofa. He laid her on it, kicked off his sneakers and climbed over her, careful not to crush her with his weight as he settled with his legs entwined with hers. “Hey,” he said softly, smiling down at her. She leaned up to kiss him and he slid a hand behind her head, tangling in her hair.

She ran her hands down his back and gave his ass a squeeze. He brought his mouth to the side of her neck where he began gently licking and sucking. She shivered at the ticklish sensation and wondered if he was marking her. He had before. She wriggled so that she was half on her side and wrapped an arm and a leg around him, holding him close. His attention shifted from the side of her neck to the front and he trailed kisses down to the V of her sweater. He moved his hand from her hair down to where her sweater met her jeans. She helped him lift it over her head and let it fall to the floor. Since their conversation in the treehouse, they’d become more adventurous in their exploration of each other’s bodies. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra with now practiced hands, smiled triumphantly which made her giggle and slipped it off her, dropping it on top of her sweater.

“Uh-uh,” she scolded playfully as he tried to touch her. “You too.” Still smiling, he unzipped his jacket and added it and his T shirt to the growing pile of clothes by the sofa. He turned back and just looked at her for a moment, all flushed cheeks, small, perfect breasts and wide smile.

“You’re beautiful, Carrie,” he said softly, cupping her cheek as he pressed his mouth to hers. Their kisses were hotter now and he began caressing her breast, gently at first, then with more urgency as she moaned softly against him. He moved down the sofa slightly and bent to kiss her other breast, lapping at the nipple and earning one of the soft whimpers he thought about in the darkness of his bedroom most nights.  

When he shifted to her other nipple, his hand moved to squeeze her ass and she felt his firmness press against her. She gasped and he sucked a little harder before he leaned against her again, increasing the sensations for both of them.

She slid a hand between them to cup him through his jeans and he groaned against her breast, pausing for a moment as she moved her hand up and down his length. He grabbed her wrist when she started fumbling with his zipper. “Hey,” he warned, “I don’t have anything with me. It’s not like I expected we’d…”

“Shhh, it’s ok,” she whispered, cutting him off. “Just, you know, like last time...” _For starters anyway,_ she thought, splaying her hand over him again.

He moved it away and carefully opened his zipper. He pushed his jeans down over his hips and she noticed the way his boxer briefs strained as he wrestled his pants off. As she moved to touch him again it was his turn to tease, “Uh-uh, you too.”

Conscious of how she might look trying to slide off her tight jeans while lying down, she rose quickly and shimmied out of them. John raised himself on one elbow to watch then wrapped his arm around her and leaned back as she clambered onto the sofa. He ran his hand appreciatively down her back and cupped her ass through the thin fabric of her underwear. She moved her thigh between his legs and pressed her pelvis to his, running a hand from the front of his hip around to his ass, slipping under his waistband and squeezing back. He kissed her again, nipping gently at first and then becoming more passionate as he allowed his hands to roam down her back, over her ass to her thighs and back again.

Today she noticed that with each stroke down to her thighs, his hands lingered a little longer and his fingers edged further along the inside of her thighs. She began to anticipate his touch, parting her legs slightly so he had more reach. When she felt his fingers against her underwear, she pressed fractionally against them, silently communicating that she wanted him to continue. He gently cupped her before starting to stroke her lightly. Their kisses deepened and he grew bolder in his touch. When she moaned against him, he suddenly wanted more. He withdrew his hand, and she broke the kiss, her unspoken question answered as he slipped his hand down the back of her underwear. Her pupils dilated and he held her gaze as he lowered his hand and resumed touching her, reverently, awed by her soft wetness.

She’d wondered what it would feel like to have someone else touch her this intimately. His touch was so different to her own. He had no way of knowing her preferences as they were both so new to this, and she’d worried it might be awkward, maybe even embarrassing. Now that they were here though, she wanted this as much as he did, and his patience and gentleness showed her he wanted her to please her, to cherish her, and added to her longing. She rested her head on his shoulder and he felt her hot breath against his neck. He gently slid a finger to her entrance. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered. She shook her head and nestled closer. She took a deep breath as he slowly eased in, then stilled, amazed at how snug she felt. He withdrew slightly, then eased in again, gradually building a gentle rhythm which he reluctantly resolved not to continue for too long, in case he left her sore. He gently withdrew one last time and cupped her tenderly. She sighed just below his ear and he didn’t think he’d ever been so hard before. He felt his flesh twitch against his underwear.

So did Carrie. She shifted against him and he took the hint and slid his hand out of her underwear, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You ok?” he checked.

“Better than ok,” she said with a smile, flushing even redder. She turned and reached to the coffee table for a couple of the napkins kept there for snacking in front of the television and passed them to him, trying not to feel self-conscious as he discretely wiped his hand.

She distracted herself by placing her palm over him, feeling the firmness straining beneath his underwear. She slid her hand inside, noticing that it was suddenly his turn to take a deep breath. As her fingers traced lightly along his length he slid his briefs down to the top of his thighs, wanting to see her doing what he’d imagined so often. She was tentative at first, alternately cupping and stroking him, occasionally encircling him in her hand, keeping her touch light. He found the newness of it arousing and the fact that she was nearly naked and pressed against him in all the areas that mattered was almost too much to bear. He looked down again at her small hand wrapped around him, and his breathing became more rapid. He placed his hand gently over hers, helping to find the pace that would take him over the edge. At the last possible moment, he groaned and lifted her hand away, covering himself with the hand that held the napkins she’d passed him before. He let out a deep sigh and after a few seconds, hauled up his underwear and lay back on the sofa, pulling her to lie on his chest. She heard his heart racing as it had the first time he’d kissed her.

“Are _you_ ok?” she asked, leaning up and smiling.

“OK is not the word,” he exhaled, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

She reached for the blanket that lay folded over the back of the sofa and pulled it down, figuring they could lie there for a while before they had to clean up and get dressed again. He helped her to spread it over them and rubbed her back beneath it, thinking about what she meant to him.

“Hey,” he said softly, and she leaned up to look at him, smiling at his sweetly sleepy gaze.

He tucked her hair back behind her ear and placed his hand behind her head. “I love you,” he said simply.

Her face lit up like the sun. “I love you too, John.”


	14. Bittersweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Frangi and Laure, for their perpetual encouragement ♥

John shut off the engine and took a deep breath, hoping they were both ready for this. When Carrie had suggested it, he’d been surprised but let himself be talked around to the idea. He already found it hard to deny her anything. Now that they were here though, he couldn’t help but wonder if they would regret it. 

“OK, he said, trying to steady his nerves by focussing on practicality, at least initially. “Let’s swap positions.” Carrie’s smile widened now that she was about to get what she wanted. He opened his door and strode around the truck to the other side, noticing the gentle burble of the stream nearby and checking again that they had the area to themselves. 

By the time he opened the passenger door, she had already slid over behind the wheel and buckled her seat belt, ready for her first driving lesson. It was Saturday morning, early enough that they wouldn’t be bothered by soccer moms unleashing vanloads of unruly offspring or elderly folk cruising for shady parking spaces ahead of their morning stroll. As she prepared to turn the key he’d left in the ignition, he placed a hand on her knee. “Not so fast, Andretti,” he said lightly, receiving a good natured eye roll for slowing proceedings. “Mirrors first.”

He helped her tilt the rear view mirror so she had a clear view behind them and gestured for her to roll down the window and adjust the door mirror so she could see anything that might come up beside them. Then he had her practice using the indicators and operating the gearstick on the steering column in conjunction with the clutch pedal. Lastly he slid close enough to slip his arm around her shoulders while he demonstrated how to apply the parking brake. 

When he finally motioned for her to start the engine, she bounced on the seat with excitement. At first, they spent time practicing letting the clutch out smoothly and gently moving forward in first gear. He began to relax enough to enjoy the experience and her satisfied smile. Then, as her confidence grew, they moved on to very slow laps of the grassed area with an occasional stall or lurch, some of which he contributed to by blowing gently in her ear or sliding his fingers up her thigh. He encouraged her to start using the indicators to signal turns as she practiced pulling the truck out of the open area to park in the wider spaces between trees. 

When people eventually began arriving at the stream and parking nearby, John lifted the hand that had been resting on Carrie’s knee to look at his watch. The local garden centre would be open by now, so it was a good time to end their lesson and pick up the order his mother had placed a few days earlier. He pressed a kiss to the top of Carrie’s head and gave her thigh a squeeze before he rounded the car and resumed his place behind the wheel. 

Carrie knew today was his father’s anniversary. John had finally given in to his mother’s hints that it was time he brought his girlfriend around to meet her and share a meal. During the week, his mother had told him that she’d decided to plant a tree in his father’s memory. He’d said that Carrie had asked him to take her for a driving lesson on Saturday morning and that they could pick up the tree afterwards. His mother had suggested hopefully that Carrie could join them for breakfast after their outing and he’d agreed to ask her, knowing what this day meant to her.

When they reached the nursery, John approached the counter to ask where to pick up his order and Carrie wandered among the potted plants outside in the sunshine. When he returned from loading the tree and some slow release fertiliser into the back of his truck, he found the cashier placing two small pots into a bag which she then handed to Carrie. He shot her a quizzical look but she only gave him an enigmatic smile and took his hand for the short walk to the carpark. He watched her place the bag carefully between the fertiliser and the side of the truck to keep it upright during the drive home.

John opened the front door and immediately noticed the aroma of breakfast cooking. His stomach rumbled as he steered Carrie to the kitchen where his Mom was dividing her attention between two frypans on the stove. 

Without looking at them he knew one held scrambled eggs and the other bacon and mushrooms. This simple fare had been his father’s favourite breakfast and his mother cooked it every year on this day. As he moved to give her a peck on the cheek, she turned from the stove to snake her arm around his waist for a squeeze and gave their guest a warm smile. 

“You must be Carrie,” she began, before John could introduce her. “It’s great to finally meet you,” she said by way of welcome, slyly digging John in the ribs as she pulled her arm from around him. 

“Hi, Mrs Quincannon,” Carrie beamed back, noting John’s flinch. “Something smells good.” 

“Well, I hope you’re hungry – we’re almost ready here,” John’s mom said, turning back to the stove for the finishing touches to the meal. 

The toast popped up just then and John and Carrie moved to the bench for the butter and plates set out there. Carrie noticed a small dish with freshly washed and chopped chives ready for stirring through the eggs and thought the purchase she’d made at the garden centre might be just right.

A few minutes later they were all seated together to honour a beloved husband and father. John’s mom stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee and smiled indulgently as Carrie nibbled daintily at her eggs and toast while John hoovered up a plate laden with everything. She savoured the moment along with her first few sips of coffee then rose to reload the toaster. When she returned, she kick-started the conversation by asking how the driving lesson went, watching over the rim of her cup as her precious son and his bright, beautiful girl stole glances at each other across the table and shared secret smiles amongst the chatter. She recalled that it had been just like this between his father and herself once upon a time.

After the empty plates were rinsed and stacked by the sink, the trio made their way to the back yard. John’s mother showed Carrie her rose garden and indicated a spot close to the middle of the yard where she wanted to plant the tree. John walked around to the front of the house to retrieve it from his truck. Carrie turned to take in the yard and noticed a bed of small plants close to the wall of the house. 

“Is that a herb patch?” she asked.

“Yes,” smiled John’s mother, “just a few herbs for the kitchen – parsley, basil and the chives we ate this morning. And mint, of course – it grows like a weed. There’s plenty of room in the bed though so I should probably buy some more.”

They turned as John reappeared with the sack of fertiliser slung over one shoulder, the potted tree in his other arm and the bag containing Carrie’s purchase dangling from his hand.

“Actually,” said Carrie, moving towards John and taking the bag from him, “I bought you something this morning.”

She removed the two pots and handed them to his mother who looked them over in wonder. 

“Rosemary,” she smiled, a tear in her eye now.

“For remembrance,” Carrie said quietly.

“And sage.”

“A companion for rosemary,” she said, putting her arm around John’s mother. “I thought you might like them.”

“I do,” she nodded, smiling despite her tears. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”

John felt a surge of love for Carrie as she and his mother, both touched by loss but resilient and empathetic because of it, bonded over her thoughtful gesture. He watched as they decided where to place the pots in the herb patch, ahead of planting later. 

He grabbed the shovel and hose and set about digging a hole for the tree. Once it was deep enough, he added a decent amount of the fertiliser and some water while his mother carefully slid the small tree out of its pot. She held it in place as John filled the hole around it and carefully packed down the soil.

“What sort of tree is it?” Carrie asked, as they stood back to admire it.

“A white oak,” said John’s mom. “It will grow strong and tall, just like my husband,” she continued, leaning in to John as he placed his arm around her shoulders. They stood that way, lost in their thoughts for a few moments, before she reached up to kiss her son on the cheek. She glanced from the tree to Carrie and back to John. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

John briefly tightened his embrace, then moved to gather up the shovel, hose and fertiliser. Carrie bent to pick up the empty pot and her free hand went to John’s arm as she joined him in putting everything away before he dropped her home. 

His mother watched fondly as they disappeared from view, then turned her attention back to the oak tree. She thought of the words of love and farewell her husband had penned, delivered by a trusted member of his unit after his death, stored safely in the small jewellery box on her dresser and carefully unfolded and reread on good days and bad days, whenever she needed to feel him close. She reflected that no one knew where life would lead, what surprises lay in store, what might be gained or lost.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her back and thought about a time in the future when the tree would be large and leafy and dared to hope that one day there might be grandchildren climbing in it and playing under it.


	15. I'll Be Your Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Frangi ♥

Carrie stood on the sidewalk signalling as her father parked the car and trailer in the twilight of the evening. A couple of weeks earlier he’d decided to spend a weekend up at the cabin replacing some split weatherboards and rotted decking. Bill had offered to give him a hand and he’d agreed readily, believing the help would be useful and looking forward to spending some time with the man who had become a fixture in Maggie’s life. Frank wondered if Bill was just being his usual helpful self in offering to assist with the repairs or if he was looking for an opportunity to ask him a certain question in regards to Maggie. Frank already knew what answer he would happily give if or when the time ever came.

It was Friday evening and he’d borrowed a friend’s trailer for the weekend. Bill would be staying over after watching the Orioles game, which meant they could have a quick breakfast, head to the hardware for the timber they’d need and make an early start. Frank watched the rear view mirror for Carrie’s sign that he’d reversed far enough. He joined her on the sidewalk and slid his arm around her shoulders with a fond, “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

Inside the house they found Maggie setting the table for dinner. Carrie took over so Maggie could finish preparing a salad to serve with the spaghetti she’d already cooked. Carrie joined her and slid a tray of garlic bread out of the oven. She lined a bowl with kitchen paper and was reaching for the tongs to transfer the slices to it when Frank swooped in to snitch one. Carrie smiled and shook her head as he sucked the red spots between his fingers straight after – the price of his insistence on enjoying it piping hot.

Over dinner they chatted about the weekend ahead. Carrie would be working most of Saturday. Maggie had arranged to meet some college classmates to prepare for an upcoming practical assessment. “And then a girls’ night in?” Frank guessed.

“Actually, John’s coming around in the evening,” Carrie said, a tinge of colour creeping in to her cheeks.

Maggie thought of another weekend a few years ago when Bill’s parents had travelled interstate for a family wedding. His sister had announced she would be attending an all night movie marathon with friends. And so Bill had invited Maggie over and they’d made the most of the extended time on their own. Earlier in the week she’d realised that this weekend offered a similar opportunity for Carrie. She’d nonchalantly told Carrie that with Bill out of town, she planned to spend the night with some single friends who shared an apartment, catching up over dinner and hitting a club together, and would find her way home the next day.

Maggie smiled now, telling Frank, “And I’ve arranged to see some girlfriends while Bill’s away.” Then she turned to Carrie and said casually, “I’ll see you and John when I get back.”

“Sounds perfect,” beamed Frank. 

The next morning, Maggie got up with Bill and packed a basket with water bottles, snacks and a change of linen for the cabin. Her father would pick up other supplies at the small township close to their destination. She kissed them goodbye and began making herself breakfast and a sandwich for later. She was rummaging in the fridge when she heard Carrie start the shower.

Carrie joined her just as she finished wiping down the counter.

“Hey,” she said, “you missed Dad and Bill.”

“Yeah,” nodded Carrie, “I slept through my alarm - the car woke me.”

“Well, I’ll be leaving soon too,” she said, picking up her lunch. “Oh, and by the way, there’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge – should be enough for two,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks, Maggie,” said Carrie shyly.

“Enjoy,” she said warmly, hugging Carrie. 

Carrie ate a bowl of cereal and returned to her bedroom. She had half an hour before her bus. She made up her bed with fresh sheets and cleared the books off her nightstand. She opened the window slightly, looked around the room and smiled, happy with what she saw.

Saturday was always a busy day at the record store. It was late morning the first time Carrie looked at her watch and the afternoon quickly flew by. At the end of her shift she stepped out into the mall and a familiar figure stood, tall and lanky, from a bench nearby.

“John!” she said in surprise.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“Wow, I thought…” the rest of her sentence was lost when he pulled her in for a kiss.

“Cancelled,” he said briefly, before kissing her again. “Thought I’d drive you home.”

He took her hand and they started walking through the almost deserted mall to the carpark. Along the way, she spied a newly installed passport photo booth, the curtain pulled back to reveal that it was empty. Her smile widened and she steered him to it. 

After filling the coin slot with their spare change, he allowed her to push him down onto the seat inside. She drew the curtain and he pulled her onto his lap, kissing the side of her neck, just in time for the first picture to capture her ticklish laughter.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready!” she protested good-naturedly, shaking her hair back, leaning against his shoulder and matching his easy smile as the camera flashed once more.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he said softly in her ear, arms wrapped around her. She turned and pressed her forehead to his, their eyes closed, and the moment was etched forever on their hearts as well as their final snap. They stayed in the booth kissing and whispering while their photos developed and then he drove her home.

Once inside, Carrie flipped on the lights as she wandered to the kitchen and set her purse down on the counter.

“Hungry?” she asked, opening the fridge.

John leant against the counter, watching as she bent to search the shelves. “Yeah.”

“Pasta ok?”

“Sure,” he nodded. 

They ate slowly at one corner of the dining table, fiddling with their forks, feet and knees occasionally touching, sipping sodas, kissing and laughing. When he gathered up their empty bowls, she leant against the counter and watched him rinse and stack them in the sink. He turned when he was done and gave her a small smile.

They were standing on the brink of a new stage in their relationship, full of hope and anticipation. She picked up her purse from the counter and took out the strip of photos from the mall. “I know just the spot for these,” she said meaningfully, taking his hand and leading him to the stairs. He picked up his backpack from beside the front door and followed her to her room. She opened the door and they stepped inside.

“New furniture,” he remarked quietly, dropping his bag at the end of the bed and glancing around.

“Yeah,” Carrie smiled shyly, “Dad bought Maggie a double bed when she was about my age so I guess he decided it was time I had one too.”

She’d found a pair of bookcases at the same store and bought them with some of her savings. Frank had assembled and helped her arrange everything. Her desk was still located under the window and was now flanked by the new bookcases, which were already well stocked. Frank had attached a corkboard to the desk-side of each. John watched as she pinned the photos to the corkboard that was visible from bed. She stepped back from the desk, kicked off her shoes and sat on the side of the bed. She patted the spot next to her and smiled as he slid off his boots and joined her. He looked over at their photos then turned to face her.

“Cute,” she said, smiling.

“Gorgeous,” he replied, lifting a hand to her cheek.

Their kisses were tentative at first, his hand tangling in her hair as she pressed herself against him. He slid his hands up under her shirt, running them over her back and dipping into her waistband. She eased her hands under his sweater and began to edge it upwards until he took the hint and pulled it over his head. She leaned back slightly to run her hands over his chest and let him unbutton her shirt. His hands slid upwards along her ribs as he dipped his head and began kissing the gentle swell above her bra. Soon her shirt was gone – later she couldn’t even remember which of them had removed it – and he was helping her tug off her pants. She lay back against the pillows as he removed his jeans, his eyes never leaving her.

He gently unhooked her bra and helped her slide off her underwear, then his own. They lay together, kissing and touching, taking their time, desire building. She slid her hand down his belly and was surprised when he caught her wrist. She frowned, not understanding why he didn’t want her to do what he usually enjoyed so much. He pulled her into his arms, kissed her deeply, and whispered, “You first.”

She nodded and settled into the crook of his arm, and he marvelled at the trust and desire in her eyes. His hand slipped between her legs, stroking her gently, reacquainting her with his touch. Soon his finger slid down and pressed against her entrance, easing in and then withdrawing slightly, building his usual slow, careful rhythm.

He watched as her cheeks flushed, keeping her close, feeling as well as hearing the gradual change in her breathing. He knew she enjoyed this, always did, but he wanted to take it further this time and watch her experience the same pleasure he did when she touched him. 

“Want me to try something else?” he offered. “I want it to feel good for you.”

“Well, I liked what you were doing before too,” she said shyly.

“This?” he asked, withdrawing carefully and resuming his gentle strokes.

“Yeah,” she nodded, parting her legs slightly and relaxing against him.

“Is this how you do it?” he asked in a low voice.

“Sort of,” she admitted awkwardly.

“Show me,” he whispered.

“John!” she protested, becoming self-conscious.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” he gently reassured her. “You know what I like. I just want to know what you like too.”

He took her hand and kissed it, then moved it to her thigh. “Please,” he whispered.

She saw how much it meant to him and realised that if she trusted him in everything else, she could trust him in this. He sat mesmerised as she touched herself, reluctantly at first, delicately circling and stroking, occasionally straying to her entrance and the wetness there. He glanced up and noticed that the flush had spread from her face to her chest now, either through self-consciousness or arousal, perhaps a combination of both.  

“Want me to try now?” he said softly, longing not only to touch her and please her, but to watch himself doing so while they lay together like this.

She withdrew her hand and he shifted to touch her again. He began lightly echoing her movements, guided by the way she relaxed or tensed and her quiet, appreciative sounds. Occasionally he slipped a finger inside her before returning to what she seemed to like best. He began to experiment with a change in pace and pressure, noticing her hips angling towards him and her soft whimpers becoming stronger.

Soon she tensed against him, burying her face in the sanctuary of his chest as her breath caught and sensation overwhelmed her. He held her gently, awed and intensely aroused by the experience, and as she relaxed he pressed kisses to her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead. Once her breathing had slowed, she captured his face in her hands. She felt his hardness against her and knew how much he wanted her. His eyes held longing and devotion and she felt her heart fill with love and desire.

“I want you, John,” she whispered.

He settled her against the pillow and moved to the end of the bed for his bag. She watched as he removed a condom from a box there and tore open the packaging. He sat beside her again and carefully rolled it on, stroking himself gently and checking that it stayed in place.  

She allowed him to pull her up so she straddled him and press himself against her most sensitive parts, his hands running over the warm, smooth skin of her back. She felt herself aching for him in a way she never had before. She came up onto her knees slightly, arms wound around his neck and moved against him, gently stimulating them both. He was determined to let her set the pace. He wanted this day to be something they could both look back on and remember for the right reasons. His hands roamed over her ass, gripping, kneading, and his mouth found her neck, his breath hot on her skin and his kisses leaving her in no doubt about his desire for her. He felt her breasts against his chest and angled his head to see them, the nipples hard even before he ran a hand up her side to caress them. Soon, her hand tightened in the hair above his neck and he turned his face to hers, sensing that she was ready.

He moved a hand to the small of her back and used the other to line himself up at her entrance, feeling her wetness where she’d pressed against his length. He applied a gentle pressure and felt himself begin to slide into the warmth of her passage. He stilled, head bent, giving them both time to adjust to this new sensation, and she pressed her forehead to his. After a moment, his mouth sought hers, his tongue parting her lips gently. She touched her tongue to his and they kissed each other carefully, reverently, as she relaxed her legs, gradually lowering herself onto him. He held her gently and each time she paused, he caressed her anew, encouraging her body to relax as it accepted this new intimacy. There was no urgency, they had each other and they had all night. Maybe even forever.

Her arms relaxed a little at his neck when she finally rested on his lap and took a deep breath.

“You ok?” he checked, smoothing her hair back.

“Just give me a minute,” she murmured, their foreheads together again now. 

His fingers brushed back and forth along her arm at his neck, patient, tender. When she felt ready, she shifted her hips slightly, experimentally, once, then again. He pressed against her and relaxed, ran his hands down her sides and back up, before pressing against her again, watching for signs of discomfort amid their gentle exploring.

And so they gave themselves to each other, delicately balancing passion and patience as they had during their first kiss, their hearts and souls in tandem now as then. They moved together, stilled, kissed, sighed, caressed, their breathing and movements slow and careful at first, then gradually faster and more urgent, until he suddenly gripped her and pressed his forehead to hers, not breathing for a moment, almost deafened by his heartbeat. When he opened his eyes, she was there, holding him in the haven of her arms as he had when she’d lost herself with him. They stayed like this for a while and he rubbed his cheek along her jaw, kissing her softly when their lips met.

“I love you, Carrie,” he whispered.

“I love you too, John,” she sighed. 

When he carefully slid out of her, they noticed smears of blood on the sheath. He passed her the tissues from the nightstand, busying himself disposing of the condom to give her some privacy. Then he lay down and drew her to lie with her head on his chest. She found his hand and their fingers interlaced.

“Sure you’re ok?” he asked again, concern in his voice.

“A bit tender,” she admitted, “but it was worth it.”

He tightened his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “Good,” he said, relieved. Then more softly, “You felt incredible.”

She closed her eyes and listened to the beating of his heart. He stroked her back gently, feeling goosebumps rise and then subside under his touch.

“We should probably shower,” she suggested after a while.  

“You first,” he offered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Half an hour later they were side by side on the sofa, nursing bowls of ice cream and snuggling under a blanket while they channel surfed. 

An hour after that, they were back in her bed, he in boxer briefs and a soft, faded T shirt, she in striped pyjama bottoms and white tank. Their hands roamed, their bodies entwined, but there was a dreamy, patient quality to their kissing and touching after their earlier exhilaration. Both knew there would be time for more in the morning. Eventually he turned her on her side, slid an arm under her pillow and wrapped himself around her. He kissed the back of her neck and she laced her fingers with his, holding tight as they drifted off together. 

New to sharing a bed, they sought each other in their dreams, stirring at the slightest movement, settling after sleepy kisses, waking against the other’s warmth. They took turns keeping a lover’s vigil, lying awake in wonder at the other’s quiet breath and steady heartbeat, before sleep claimed them both in the hours before the sun rose.  

She awoke to a strange sound and in the instant before realisation dawned, almost panicked about the form draped over her back. She smothered a giggle at his low snores, and felt her hair fluttering as he exhaled against it. When he drew a deep breath and rolled away, she took the opportunity to creep to the bathroom. She snuck back into the bedroom and wandered over to the desk to admire at the photos from the day before. Smiling to herself, she glanced over at the bed and noticed him stirring.

She slid off her pyjama bottoms and draped them over her chair, then slipped back into bed in her briefs and tank. She lay on her side and watched as he rubbed at his face and hair, slowly rousing. “Good morning,” she said playfully.

“Yeah,” he smiled sleepily, pulling her to him. “It is.”


End file.
